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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878693">The Ink of Remembrance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddnheadbou/pseuds/puddnheadbou'>puddnheadbou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Surprise Ending, Tattooed Andrés is my new aesthetic, Tattoos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:35:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddnheadbou/pseuds/puddnheadbou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was not his first tattoo, but the meaning behind this new project was definitely worth the pain. He would overcome it."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa &amp; Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Ink of Remembrance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cacilie_Blaas/gifts">Cacilie_Blaas</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>When Cassy made a thread on Twitter about Andrés having tattoos, I simply fell in love with the idea. And since today is a special day, I wrote this one-shot for one of the best friends I've ever had. Happy birthday Cassy!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The buzzing sound of the tattoo machine had stopped bothering him a long time ago. He could have tried to ignore the sensation of the needle on his skin as well, but the spot he chose was particularly painful, and despite the tattoo artist’s warnings, Andrés insisted on getting it there. It was not his first tattoo, but the meaning behind this new project was definitely worth the pain. He would overcome it.</p><p>When people bumped into Andrés or simply laid their eyes on him, they probably would not imagine him being a tattoo enthusiast — it was certainly surprising for such an elegant man, always dressed to the nines, to be interested in it. But Andrés was a man of taste and would find interest in all forms of art, even the most intimate ones. Body modification was something he always considered as fascinating, although he never thought he would ever actually take the plunge and somehow become a living canvas. But the way he understood art was not only to appreciate beauty or some sort of emotional power, it could be more than that. It could be a tribute to the past and an intention to move forward — both could work together, and Andrés knew that more than anyone else.</p><p>Andrés had always felt something was missing. It was not about the family context he grew up in, his illness or his debatable ‘professional’ choices, but rather a missing piece in the intricate puzzle of his life, as if he could not really be at peace with himself, and that would probably explain why he got married five times. He never told anyone, let alone his wives, the meaning behind his tattoos. When they interrogated him, he would either smoothly avoid the conversation or make up a story when they were too resolute. Since he was particularly good at lying, they would believe him.</p><p>Andrés could never really express or obtain what he truly wanted, and that was mostly the reason why marriages came one after another. He used to think that the reason behind it was his need for freedom, hence the wild horse he got on his back, near his right shoulder, when his first marriage ended. For some reason, he felt lighter after his second divorce and got a bird on his calf to assert his independence and self-reliance. His third marriage was the shortest of all and became the symbol of both his weakness for women and his own vulnerability — the mermaid on his left thigh was here to remind him how he could be so easily mesmerized by love. It was a warning to himself not to fall for anyone’s charm and empty promises ever again — a lesson he tried to learn, but failed to do so. His fourth tattoo, between his shoulder blades, marked his clear disillusionment in love, to which he vowed to turn his back, like the moon always hides a part of itself to our eyes. Somehow, unlike his previous wives, he really thought that Tatiana — his sweet, cherished Tatiana — would be <em> the </em> one. He tried to persuade himself that they were meant to be, but she soon understood that he was lying to himself way before he realized it. Not long after she decided to leave him for his own good, Andrés went back to the tattoo parlor for the fifth time, to seal one last vow on his skin — a vow in the shape of a beautiful yet deadly snake, slithering along his spinal column, magnified by the cycles of the moon, mysterious, ever-changing, and deeply connected to his own emotions and the mask he had always been wearing. What was shown on the surface never reflected what was going on underneath: A wish to heal, a want to understand, an ache to belong. </p><p>“Still alive?” </p><p>The tattoo artist’s voice broke him out of his reverie. His side was burning despite the ointment she was cautiously applying. When he could finally get up, Andrés winced in pain.</p><p>“I told you it would hurt,” she said, shrugging.</p><p>“I should be okay.”</p><p>He reached the mirror to see the final result. Although the tattoo artist had done the five previous drawings over the years, Andrés insisted on drawing this one. Surprisingly, she accepted this particular demand — Andrés was not like the other clients she had tattooed, and he obviously had a peculiar talent for drawing. Stunned, Andrés stared at the tattoo for several long minutes, not quite realizing what he was looking at.</p><p>“It’s perfect.”</p><p>“Well, it’s your drawing,” she said warmly, aware that this phoenix meant a lot more to him than  what she could imagine. “So…” difficult for her to tone down the curiosity in her voice, “do you have any new project in the making?”</p><p>“Actually, you won’t see me coming up with a new one anytime soon,” he answered while putting his shirt then his jacket back on.</p><p>“You know what they say — when you get one, you suddenly want two more,” she replied with a hint of mischief.</p><p>“This one is the last,” Andrés retorted serenely.</p><p>“Well,” she raised her eyebrows and smiled, “you know where to contact me if you need touch ups.” They shook hands. “It’s certainly been a pleasure to work on your projects, sir.”</p><p>“Thank you, I really appreciated it.”</p><p>When Andrés got back to the monastery half an hour later, Martín was sitting at his desk, reading some engineering research papers and taking notes (or what Andrés jokingly referred to as ‘genius gibberish’) in his small notebook. When he entered the room, Martín got up and immediately greeted him.</p><p>“You’re back! I wondered where you’ve been.”</p><p>Andrés flinched when Martín innocently put his arm around him. Surprised at the other man’s reaction, Martín frowned and raised his hands slightly, as if he had just done something wrong or forbidden.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Martín asked, perplexed.</p><p>“I am,” Andrés answered, “it’s just…”</p><p>Hesitant at first, he finally removed his (expensive) black velvet jacket and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his left side. Martín had to get closer to see the new tattoo on Andrés’ ribs. The skin was still a bit reddish, the pain was now mild, but the spot was still sensible, still feeling like a burn. Just like a phoenix rises from its ashes.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Martín whispered before looking up to Andrés who shrugged with a silent <em> ‘yeah’ </em>. “I mean, we’ve been together for some time now, so I know you’re into tattoos,” Martín laughed. The kind of laugh that made Andrés so fond of him. “But I was not expecting you to get another one.”</p><p>“Well, I… It was a secret project of mine,” Andrés answered hesitantly.</p><p>“I respect that. It looks beautiful.” Martín could not get his eyes off of it, trying to notice every detail.</p><p>“I made it for us,” Andrés finally confessed.</p><p>Martín’s look changed and Andrés did not really know what kind of reaction to expect. Despite the time they had been living together, Andrés rarely opened up to Martín about what their relationship meant to him. Martín, however, never questioned it — he no longer had doubts about the sincerity of Andrés’ feelings.</p><p>“For us?” Martín asked, now looking at Andrés who was now readjusting his shirt and buttoning it up.</p><p>“Each tattoo has a meaning, and each of them was a way for me to start with a clean state after my divorces. Five divorces, five tattoos.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I…” Martín started to say, confused.</p><p>“I got these tattoos to remind myself how unpredictable love is,” Andrés went on, interrupting Martín. “I don’t believe in closure.” He was still looking away. “But the phoenix is a symbol for rebirth.” He eventually faced Martín and took his hand. “I swore that my fifth marriage would be the last… But then our paths crossed again and everything changed for the better.” He smiled. “You’re my renewal, and I can’t imagine sharing the rest of my days with anyone else but you.”</p><p>Martín was at a loss for words, both surprised and touched by the way Andrés was so earnestly opening up to him. Andrés noticed his tearful eyes and kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth. Martín sighed and put his arms around his lover’s neck.</p><p>“I can’t believe I’ve turned down six proposals. <em> Six </em>,” he insisted before showing off his wedding ring.</p><p>“But you said <em> yes </em> in the end,” Andrés retorted with a smirk that Martín quickly erased with a kiss.</p><p>“Te quiero, estúpido.”</p><p>And at that moment, honest and innocent, Andrés felt something unknown. Something different. Something that made perfect sense.</p><p>The missing piece was just in front of him. </p><p>He was finally complete.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked it ❤️ -hides-</p><p>Cassy's thread: https://twitter.com/Cacilie_Blaas/status/1343584154479448071?s=20</p></blockquote></div></div>
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